


Winter Wearing Out

by Miraculous_Content



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Luka is WEAK, Marinette is thoughtful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-02-01 22:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21287837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miraculous_Content/pseuds/Miraculous_Content
Summary: Marinette supposed that she could be a bit pushy sometimes. She had a tendency to insist on doing things for others, which wasn't a good combination when she already had a hard time saying "no" to people.Though, that didn't mean she was going to resist the temptation to ensure the Couffaines were prepared for winter.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 35
Kudos: 583





	Winter Wearing Out

Marinette snuck aboard the Liberty with careful steps, carrying the package in her arms as if it were glass. She watched where she moved, fearing that any missteps would cause a creak—or worse, a board breaking—that would surely alert anyone below.

"Anyone" meaning one person specifically, who Marinette _certainly_ didn't want to see.

She went as quietly down the stairs as possible, her eyes shifting about and checking for anyone who may've been around. She slowly began to traverse the rooms, ensuring that the "braid tornado" wasn't around to see her.

The coast was clear. Luka and Juleka's room was _right there._ All she had to do was—

"Aye! What've ya got there, lass?"

Marinette straightened, the motion causing her package to be sent just slightly into the air. She flailed, letting out a variety of incomprehensible noises as she swiped at the package. With some fumbling, she managed to return it to its original position in her arms, but that didn't stop her blood from going cold as she whipped around to see Anarka standing behind her.

"Oh! Uh—t-this old thing?" she asked, grabbing hold of the flap of her jacket. "J-just my usual. I designed it myself. Comfortable, yet stylish. Honestly though, I wanted to go for something a little more—"

"The _box,_ matey," Anarka interrupted, now staring down at Marinette with skepticism.

"O-oh, right!" Marinette exclaimed while simultaneously choking on her own nerves. "The box! _This_ box! The box in my hands! Of course! What else could you have possibly meant?"

She cleared her throat. "W-well, you see—um—this box is—well—for messes!"

Anarka tilted her head. "Messes?"

"Y-yeah! You always talk about chaos and how it never hurt, so—uh—" Marinette clutched the box close, afraid that Anarka might've snatched it up at any moment, just like any of the other packages she'd tried to bring onto the ship. "—Luka and Juleka's room is always so neat and organized, so—I mean—I thought..."

Supporting the box with one hand, she very steadily slipped a hand inside, feeling around until she'd grabbed a wad of paper. Crunching it further in her hand, she pulled it out and threw it haphazardly into the air.

Anarka's eyes followed it. It soared upwards, came back down, then hit Marinette's head before sliding off and ungracefully landing on the floor.

Marinette looked at it, then at Anarka, then grinned sheepishly. "Y-you see? A mess! Sooooo..."

Anarka stared at her, unblinking.

Marinette could feel herself start to sweat. This woman was going to take her box yet again. She was going to make her walk the plank, then walk the plank a second time for good measure. This was how Marinette was going to _die,_ eternally forbidden from seeing any of the Couffaines ever again as she drowned in the Seine and the sea of her own axie—"

"Sounds like quite the plan you have there, lass!"

Marinette froze, then blinked. She glanced up at Anarka in disbelief. "Wh—really?"

Anarka winked. "Y'have fun then. My kids seem to trust ya fine, so I will too."

She walked away. She _actually_ walked away, leaving Marinette to herself.

Marinette didn't breathe for a good few seconds, unable to fathom that Anarka had actually given her the go-ahead. Her legs still shaking, she turned and started to head to Luka and Juleka's room, her gaze lingering on where Anarka had gone.

She bumped into something. At first, she thought she'd just missed the doorway, but upon looking, she saw—

"_Eep!_" Marinette staggered back, though managed not to fumble with the box this time. "_Luka!_ Oh my gosh—I'm sorry—I just—"

"Hello, Marinette," he greeted with an unphased smile. "It's okay. I just thought I might've had to step in for a little there."

So he _saw_ that. Well, it was embarrassing, but honestly, after everything with Adrien, Marinette had become numb to the smaller things.

She let out a breath, hunching over slightly. "Good. Thank you." She paused, then stepped towards him. Impassively, she murmured, "Hold this, please."

Luka turned out of her way, letting Marinette pass as he took the box that she'd given him. He watched as she wandered almost aimlessly into the room.

She placed a hand on his bed for support, then slowly let her legs give out as she sunk down to the floor. She laid there, motionlessly, and exhaled a long, drawn-out groan.

Luka giggled, careful not to step on Marinette as he walked over to his bed and set the box on it. "Was that a... C?"

"I don't know," she murmured into the floor. "I'm not good with notes like you are."

Slowly, she turned her head to him. He extended his hand to her, which she graciously took as he helped her back up.

"Your pitch was perfect though," he complimented with a teasing smile. As she dusted herself off, he turned his attention back to the box. "So, what's _actually_ in this?"

Marinette smiled, turning to the box as she took the lid off. "Well~"

She reached inside, pulling out multiple wads of paper and setting them aside. She could never be too careful with Anarka, she figured.

Finally, she lifted out a large black-and-white jacket and presented it to him. There was a white Jagged Stone symbol right on the left chest pocket.

Luka grinned, taking hold of one of the sleeves and feeling it. "It's warm," he said. "Where you'd get it?"

"I made it."

Suddenly, Luka froze, now staring at the jacket with what seemed to be a completely different mindset. "You—?"

Marinette blushed. "I was afraid that Anarka was going to look inside and toss them out if she saw that they were winter wear, so—" She draped the jacket over her arm and gestured to it. "—I call it 'Winter Line in Disguise!' They look like regular old clothes that you could wear at any time, but they're actually _super_ warm!"

She turned back to the bed and laid the jacket down on it, completely unaware that the _actually_ "super warm" thing right now was Luka's face. He was blushing red, looking at the jacket with a mixture of surprise and awe. Marinette had certainly made them things before, but nothing as extensive and complex as _this._

Marinette continued, "I have pants and hats in here too! I wanted to make sure you and Juleka would be warm enough once winter came around. I have some experimental stuff for Anarka here as well, but she doesn't have to know it's from me." She chuckled. "I figured she wouldn't be able to tell they were winter clothes anyway - that's the idea of this line, after all - but with all her talk about how, _'Yar, we Couffaines brave the cold, there's no need for that thick, constricting prissy stuff here!',_ I knew I couldn't be too careful."

She paused, perhaps waiting to see what Luka's reply would be. When there was nothing, she turned to him, finally taking note of the silent fascination he seemed to have with the jacket.

"U-um, Luka?" she called shyly, worried that something was wrong.

He glanced up at her, snapping out of his trance, then shook his head. "Marinette, you—" He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, but couldn't shake his smile. "—you didn't have to—"

"I didn't," she confirmed, "but I wanted to." She stared fondly down at the jacket, running her hand along it. "Designing fashion and seeing the reaction people have to it... they're some of my happiest moments. You guys deserve to be warm this winter, so it was a no-brainer."

She looked back at him, but blushed just by the expression on his face alone. He was staring at her, eyes vibrant, as if she was the most beautiful song he'd ever heard.

Though, given what he'd said to her during the "Silencer incident", maybe that wasn't far off.

Luka reached over to the jacket, trailing his fingers along the Jagged Stone symbol. "Could you make this a Marinette symbol instead?" he asked. "How else will I tell people that it's yours?"

She blushed deeper. Luka was so _unfair_ sometimes. "W-well, actually, my name's already on it."

She lifted the cuff of the jacket, the end having a rim of white that seemed to spiral down into a fancy pattern. When looked at a particular way, one could notice the name "Marinette" sewn across it.

Luka grinned, even letting out a laugh. "Of course."

"O-of course?" she asked, wondering if maybe he'd heard about her tendency to sign her work.

He turned to her, gaze fond. "You're amazing, Marinette."

She stiffened, then averted her gaze, trying to keep her heart from combusting on the spot. They were just some clothes! It was no big deal!

But... to him, it clearly was, and she couldn't just _stand there_ with him looking at her like that.

She met his gaze for just a moment, then rushed forward, plowing into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. She didn't know exactly what she was doing; she just didn't want him to see her face so red.

This was worse, honestly. Luka didn't need a special jacket to be so warm; he was warm _naturally._

After a moment of hesitance, she felt Luka hug her back. She squeaked, burying her face further into him as if it would help the situation.

It didn't.

She heard him take a breath, her mind was already racing with what he was about to say. "Marinette—"

"I'm—!" she cut him off shyly. "I'm—um..." She nestled closer to him, muttering into his chest, "I'm glad you like them, Luka."

She heard and felt his chuckle, the vibration making her heart pound.

"I _love_ them, Marinette." 


End file.
